


The Tradition: Year 3

by elizaye



Series: FWB!verse [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crush, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaye/pseuds/elizaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't like Pan's Labyrinth. Also, Cas works too hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tradition: Year 3

“Am I seriously the only one who thought that movie was stupid?”

“Yes,” Anna says.

“Okay, no wonder you don’t like good movies.  You like freaky movies like this,” Dean says, and he’s addressing both Cas _and_ Anna when he says this, because of course Anna’s taste in movies is closer to Cas’s than Dean’s.

“I thought you would have liked this movie,” Cas says thoughtfully.

“Mhmm.  Why is that, exactly?”

“Well, you should relate to Ofelia.”

Um, _what?_   Dean glances at Anna, eyebrows raised, but she’s nodding across at Cas, like she knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“You both care a great deal for your family,” Cas continues.  “You both want to feel a stronger sense of connection to your family.  And you’d die if it would spare your brother.”

Dean blinks.  “Okay, well _that_ came out of nowhere.  Look, I barely got any of that from the movie.  I was a bit distracted by the gigantic puking frog and the man with the freaky hand-eye things.”

Dean finishes speaking just as the waitress arrives with a tray and sets down their food.  “Enjoy!” she says before hurrying back in the direction of the kitchen.

Anna’s rolling her eyes.  “Excellent time to bring up the most disgusting scene in the movie, Dean,” she says.  “Now I _really_ wanna eat.”

Cas huffs a soft laugh and picks up his burger.  “There’s not much that can rid me of my appetite,” he says, and Dean grins, slapping a hand on his back.

“That’s my man.  You know Cas hadn’t had a burger ‘til he came out here?” he says to Anna.

Anna frowns.  “Um, no, of course he had.”

“Not a _real_ burger.  Doesn’t count if there’s no meat.”

Anna rolls her eyes again.  “You are a terrible influence, Dean.”

“Dude, you hunt.  How the hell are you a vegetarian?”

“It _is_ more conducive to a healthy lifestyle,” Cas pipes up.

“Mhmm, right.  Why are you eating meat now, Mr. Tofu Burger?”

“I didn’t say it was preferable to eating meat, merely that it’s a more healthy choice,” Cas hedges.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Anna shakes her head.  “Like I said.  Horrible influence.”

Then Sam slides into the booth beside Cas.  “Hey, guys,” he says.  “Sorry I’m late.  How was the movie?”

“It sucked,” Dean says as Anna replies, “I loved it.”

Sam laughs.  “Okay, then.  Cas?”

“I’m fairly certain you would have enjoyed it,” Cas answers before taking a giant bite out of his burger.

“Yeah,” Anna agrees.  “You should take your girlfriend to go see it.”

Sam flushes.  “She’s not—we’re not—I mean—”

Dean is completely content to watch his little brother struggle—after all, he’s the one who told Anna that Sam wasn’t coming because he was gonna be studying with his girlfriend, like a giant nerd.  It’s not even a complete lie, because Sam totally has the hots for this girl, and it definitely looks like she likes him back.

Cas takes pity on him.  “Sam and Jess are not dating,” he says to Anna, and Sam’s just broken into a relieved smile when Cas finishes, “yet,” and he is officially Dean’s favorite person ever.

Sam barks out a surprised laugh because Cas doesn’t often participate in teasing, however playful.

Cas does that squinty thing he does when he’s thinking, except that it’s exaggerated because he’s making a joke—Dean knows his expressions well enough to tell, now—and then he says, “Though I’m not sure why not.  The attraction is clearly mutual.”

Sam’s red as a beet now, and Dean can’t hold back his laughter anymore.  “Cas, this is why you’re the best,” he says, ignoring the annoyed look he gets from Sam.

Cas’s eyes rest on Dean, and a soft look crosses his face, just for a second, a hint of one of those rare, small smiles that Cas gives him.  Dean would never admits this, but he loves coaxing those smiles out because Cas looks at him like he’s something precious, and _no one_ does that.  And fuck it all, Dean’s allowed to want someone to look at him like that—it’s not the same as Sam or Dad, but it still means something.

It occurs to him that the others are talking again, so he stuffs a ketchup-drenched fry in his mouth and tries to listen to what they’re saying.  They’re apparently going over some themes in the movie, though, so he automatically tunes back out.

“I think we’ve lost Dean,” Anna says a while later, and Dean looks up from the remains of his burger to see three pairs of eyes on him.

“Hey, don’t let me keep you from your geekery.  Have fun.”

“Aww,” Anna coos.  “Are you feeling left out?”

He barely stops himself from rolling his eyes at her, managing an unimpressed look instead, but she just smiles and leans over to press a kiss to his lips.  She pulls back, and Dean can’t help it—his lips curl into a smile, and it’s like he can _feel_ fondness in his chest, like that’s a thing that happens.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to groan and tell you to get a room?” Sam says, smirking.

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean says, and the moment’s over.

The waitress returns with a salad that she sets down in front of Sam, so apparently Dean missed her when she came over to take his order.  God, was he _that_ out of it earlier?

“Anyway, I don’t want to spoil the ending,” Anna says to Sam, “but suffice it to say that I didn’t really see it coming.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely go see it.”  There’s a brief pause before Sam says to Cas and Anna, “So it’s been almost a month since I last saw you two.  How are things?”

“Good,” Cas says, but for some reason that one word rings untrue to Dean.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty great,” Anna’s saying.

She adds something about graduating this spring, but Dean’s not really listening anymore.  He’s focused instead on the way Cas is holding himself, the way he’s paying attention, eating, everything so normal but also so _controlled_.  And well, Cas _is_ always in control, isn’t he?  Dean wonders if he needs something to throw his life out of order.  Because while Dean’s around to mess with the order of his apartment, Cas doesn’t really _have_ anyone.

Maybe he should.

* * *

Castiel is sort of a bad person.

When Anna kisses Dean, he wishes he could take her place.  And that’s a normal reaction, he knows.  He has a crush on Dean, has been trying to squash it for quite some time, and it’s normal to feel jealous.  But he _hates_ it when Dean gets that soft look in his eyes, this look that’s reserved for Anna, and it makes him think awful things about her.

A good person wouldn’t want to push her right out of the booth and onto the ground.  A good person wouldn’t want to forbid her from entering their apartment again, out of pure spite.  A good person wouldn’t have thoughts about Anna suddenly having to go home to California and deciding to end the relationship because she wouldn’t want to deal with the distance.  A good person would be happy that two of his best friends are together and happy.

But Castiel _isn’t_ happy, and he _does_ have those types of thoughts.

Conclusion: Castiel is not a good person.

These thoughts run circles in the back of his mind, and he knows that he’s not really following the conversation that Sam and Anna are having, but he’s listening just enough to know when to nod and when to look interested.  He also knows that they’re talking about whether or not Sam actually will go to KU—he’s almost guaranteed to get in, of course, but whether or not he _wants_ to go is the issue.

“I don’t know,” Sam is saying.  “I mean, I’m still not really sure what I wanna major in, but I know I’m interested in going to law school.”

“It’s still a bit early to be thinking about that, Sam,” Castiel says, even as a voice in his head is telling him that he’s not a good person, that he probably shouldn’t even be at this table right now because he’s an asshole who thinks terrible thoughts.

“Yeah, seriously,” Anna agrees.  “You still have a ton of time to change your mind.  Lord knows I’ve changed mine pretty much as many times as a person can.”

Sam shrugs.  “I don’t know,” he says.  “I mean, Dad seems to want me to y’know, ‘take over the family business’ when he’s done, but I’m not interested in business at all, and he _knows_ that.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem like an unreasonable person,” Anna says.  “I’m sure you could talk to him.”

Sam sighs.  “Yeah, yeah.  I mean, worst comes to worst, I could always just take off on my own.  People take out loans to go to school all the time, so I could just do that.  Plus, there’s also the potential for scholarship money.”

Castiel tries not to think about how much that would reflect his own situation.  Zachariah and Michael have stopped sending money altogether, apparently deeming him lost to the family, so he has to deal with everything on his own.  He still works two jobs, and it’s tiring.  So he knows how it feels to be so grateful for the existence of scholarships.  He’d be able to make things work by taking out loans as well, but it’s so much less stressful to know that he won’t have to pay anyone back for his tuition.

“Yeah, definitely,” Anna says.  “Cas could probably help you with that.  He knows so much about scholarships and stuff.”

“I could try,” Castiel offers.  “If you ever have any questions.  But I feel this will come rather far down the line—you’re still in high school, Sam.  And I doubt your father would choose not to pay for your undergraduate education, no matter what you decide to do after that.”

“Well it’s not _that_ far away,” Sam says, and Castiel supposes he does have a point.  “I mean, I’m a senior already, gonna be starting college in the fall.  And it’s obviously gonna have to affect the classes I sign up for, right?”

“Dude, don’t stress,” Dean says.  “Dad’s gonna be fine with it.  Now can we not talk about _school_ over dinner?”

Sam rolls his eyes, and Anna laughs, and Castiel turns his attention to his French fries.

After dinner, they leave the diner and head out to the parking lot.

“Need a ride home, Sammy?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“How’d you get here?” Anna asks.

“Jess dropped me off,” Sam answers.

He’s only barely finished speaking when Anna runs the rest of the way to the car—“I call shotgun!” she shouts, and they all laugh.

“Oh, whatever,” Sam says as he and Castiel get into the back.  “If I wanted to sit up front, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Dean’s still chuckling as he gets in up front.  “Kids, you know Daddy loves you all the same,” he says.

Anna punches him in the shoulder.  “Hey, don’t you talk down to me.”

Next to Castiel, Sam smiles.  “It’s nice to know you can put Dean in his place.”

Dean scoffs and Anna laughs.  “Well of course,” Anna says, reaching over and running her fingers through Dean’s short hair.

Castiel turns to look out the window, because he can be okay with their relationship, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see the proof of it.

They pull up to the Winchester house a few minutes later, and Sam gets out.

“You’re coming to the movie with us next year, okay?  I don’t care how much homework you have,” Dean says, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, we’ll see.  Bye, guys.”

“Bye, Sam,” Anna says, and Sam jogs over toward the front door.

Dean waits until his brother’s inside before stepping on the gas.

“Hey uh, Cas.  You okay back there?  You’re really quiet,” Dean says.

“What?” Castiel says reflexively, and then the question registers, and he answers, “Yes, of course.  I’m just a bit tired.”

It’s a valid excuse for his reticence tonight.  He quit his job at the library last semester to be a grader instead, and there is so much homework to grade—he’s taken on grading for three math classes of about sixty students each, so he has roughly 180 homework assignments to grade each week.  He did the same last semester, so he knows what he’s in for, and he knows he can do it, but that doesn’t stop it from being exhausting.  But it pays three times as much as that library job, so it’s worth it.

“You shouldn’t work so hard,” Dean says, and then he laughs.  “But that’s like asking you not to breathe, eh?”

Castiel smiles but doesn’t comment.  He would like to work less, and Dean knows that, so there’s really no point in responding to his teasing.

They arrive back at their apartment near campus after about ten minutes of comfortable silence—the nice thing about living in a small city is that almost any destination is reachable within ten, fifteen minutes, maybe twenty if the stoplights are particularly discriminative.

Once inside the apartment, Castiel bids Dean and Anna a good night and goes into his room, ridiculously grateful that his bedroom doesn’t share a wall with Dean’s.

He doesn’t even bother to turn on a light and walks past the piles of papers on his desk—it’s Wednesday, and two of the classes he grades for have problem sets due today, so he hasn’t even started on them yet.  The third class has problem sets due Tuesdays, and he’s still got about ten assignments left in the stack from yesterday.

He flops down onto his bed and stares up at the dark ceiling.

This is stupid.  He’s known Dean for over two years now, almost two-and-a-half.  Dean’s been dating Anna for about a full year, and before he’d started courting her, he’d had a consistent string of one-night-stands, all with women because Dean is a heterosexual male.

Castiel is a reasonable, logical person.  He should be over this awful… _crush_ , by now.  There’s absolutely no excuse for his continued interest in Dean.  No excuse for the way his eyes linger, no excuse for the images that flit through his mind when he touches himself—images of large, strong hands; a broad, muscled back; plump, pink lips; long, dark eyelashes and blazing, green eyes—

Castiel stops himself mid-thought, sits up with a jolt.

Dean is in the same apartment, probably about to or already well on his way to having sex with his girlfriend, who also happens to be Castiel’s close friend.  The last thing Castiel should be doing is fantasizing about him.

He groans and gets to his feet.  He was up ‘til just past four last night and got up around eight this morning so he’d love to just knock out right now, but he feels wired, too worked up, knows that he won’t be able to get any rest because his brain hates him.

So he turns on his desk lamp and takes a seat.  Might as well finish up that first stack of assignments, maybe even get started on the second…

* * *

Dean wakes up on his back, a heavy weight on his chest.  He looks down and sees red hair, illuminated by the moonlight that’s filtering into the room from between the blinds.  He runs a hand through her hair, lifts his head to kiss the top of her head.

A glance at the digital clock on his nightstand tells him that it’s two thirty in the morning.

And he wants to go back to sleep, but he feels parched.

He struggles with himself for about a minute, debating whether or not it’s worth it to brave the cold to go and get a glass of water from the kitchen.  In the end, his thirst wins out, and he carefully shifts out from beneath Anna.  She mumbles a bit in her sleep but doesn’t wake.

Dean gets up, grateful that Anna made them shower before bed because he’s nice and clean now, and slowly makes his way out of his room and over to their small kitchen.  Once there, he grabs a mug, fills it with tap water, and downs it in a few gulps.

Feeling refreshed, he starts back toward his room, but a sliver of light catches his attention, now that he’s more alert.  It’s coming from under Cas’s door, and he frowns—Cas really shouldn’t be working at this hour.

Dean crosses the small living room and raps lightly on the door, but there’s no response, so he pushes it open a crack.  “Cas?” he whispers.

And then he sees Cas, slumped over his desk, head resting on folded arms.  His lamp is still on, and he’s still got a red pen held loosely in his right hand.  Dean finds himself grinning, shaking his head as he pulls the door open wider and enters the room.

“Cas?” he says, a bit louder now, placing a hand on Cas’s shoulder and shaking him a little.  He groans but doesn’t stir.  “Cas, buddy—let’s get you to bed, ‘kay?”

Cas grumbles something unintelligible in a complaining tone, and Dean smiles, tugs at his shoulders.

“Hmm… Dean?” Cas mumbles.

“Yeah, Cas, it’s me.”

Cas tilts his head back, rests the top of it against Dean’s chest, and smiles up at him, wide and relaxed and unguarded, and Dean feels his breath hitch in his throat, because he swears this is a smile he hasn’t seen before.  Cas takes a deep breath, sighs, and closes his eyes again, seemingly content to go right back to sleep, just like this.

“Hey,” Dean says, jolting Cas a little.  He pulls the pen out of Cas’s lax grip, caps it, and puts it down on the desk.  Then he hooks his hands under Cas’s arms and _lifts_ , and god—Dean’s lifted Cas up before, but he’s so much heavier when he’s half unconscious.

But then Cas gets his legs under him, supports most of his own weight, and Dean just has to guide him over to his bed, yank back the covers, and let him lie down.

Dean doesn’t usually wake up in the middle of the night—when he’s out, he’s _out_ —and he wonders how often this happens, how often Cas just collapses at his desk, too tired to even get in bed.  That can’t be good for him.

As he pulls the covers out from under Cas’s feet, his mind flashes back to all the times he used to tuck Sammy in at night, and looking at Cas’s features, so soft and relaxed in sleep, he feels weirdly yet fiercely protective.  Dean tugs the covers up over Cas’s shoulders and sits down on the edge of the bed, not even bothering to resist the impulse to tuck him in.

Cas’s eyes flutter open as Dean finishes, and he gives Dean another one of those sleep-stupid smiles.

“Hey,” Dean says, unable to stop himself from smiling back.  Cas’s wide eyes, big and blue, make him look ridiculously innocent on a regular basis, but when he smiles like this, he looks downright _adorable_ —and it _must_ be really late, because Dean seems to have grown a fucking vagina.

“Hmm,” Cas grunts in response, and his eyes close again.  “Good night, Dean,” he murmurs.

“‘Night, Cas,” Dean answers, and watches Cas’s smile fade as he falls asleep.

Then Dean stands up, reaches over to turn Cas’s desk lamp off, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.  He crosses the apartment to his own room in a hurry, because the cold is getting to him, and a warm bed is beginning to sound really freaking fantastic right now.

Anna’s still asleep when he enters the room, so he gets in bed slowly and manages to slide under the covers without waking her.  Dean is officially a ninja.  He takes her hand in his, lets their joined hands rest under the covers between them, and looks up at the blank ceiling.

Resolving to talk to Cas in the morning about going to bed when he’s tired like a normal human being, Dean closes his eyes and eventually drifts off.

**Author's Note:**

> I ended up adjusting their ages a bit in this verse so that Dean's actually only three years older than Sam instead of four, because I didn't have the foresight to think their ages through. Sorry 'bout that!


End file.
